Emerald Tears
by PinkWhirlWind
Summary: After six months, Squall finds clues that Seifer's survived... at least until now. S/S
1. Default Chapter

Emerald Tears  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own FF8.   
  
Notes: More or less canon. It's done for fun.   
  
Emerald Tears  
  
"Why did you buy those things?" Rinoa asked. It was a casual question.  
  
  
  
Squall pulled the small black leather box from his pocket, caressed it with his thumb, and tried to come up with an answer. Inside, nestled in black satin were two emerald earrings, one tear drop shaped post and one topaz oval with another emerald tear drop hanging from it. He imagined a man wearing them on one ear.   
  
Right there in the bazaar, he opened the box, and Rinoa moved closer, blocking off some of the happy holiday morning traffic in the Esthar bazaar, giving Squall a little privacy. Together they looked at his prize. He'd paid five months SeeD Pay for them. Reverently he ran a calloused thumb over the dangle one. "They remind me of green eyes."  
  
She slipped her arm through the crook of his. "Want to wear them? We can go get your ear done with another hole. I'll pay." She gave his arm a little squeeze.   
  
He shut the box with a snap, and put it in his pocket. "Not now. I heard the café here has the pastries you said you liked."  
  
"Squall!" Rinoa smiled, and for just a moment there was flirt in her smile. She didn't even notice it. He forgave her. It was her nature, that was all. They'd grown up, in the last six months, both of them. She wasn't looking for her daddy. He wasn't looking for his Sis. She had found her path, a school and an orphanage. He was still looking for where he'd left his heart. Unconsciously, he patted the box in his jacket pocket. "That's so sweet of you!"  
  
He ground his teeth, and she turned away from him, giving him his space, and her attention to one of the stalls set up make shift bazaar in the park. He let her give her attention to the crafts in that booth, crossing to one on the other side. The booth had nothing he was interested in, but it was nice, none the less, to know he could turn his back on Rinoa, have an illusion of solitude. It was an agreement between them, the foundation of their friendship.   
  
"Squall!" She called, loud, jarring and he spun, internally calling for a GF that he wasn't junctioned to. War left various bruises. This was just one of them. Palms sweating, he strode to her side, and then he saw what she saw. The paper was good, fine cream drawing paper, and on it knelt a Squall, maybe nine, maybe ten, in perfect unmistakable detail, no scar, little hands patting sand into a sand castle. Just beyond the sand castle sat a little blond boy, knees drawn up to his chest, arms around them, chin on his knees. Squall adjusted the age of the boy in the drawing. He had been just a little past six, and Seifer had just come to the orphanage. Heart swelling painfully, he touched the little blond boy with the tips of his rough fingers.   
  
"It's you and Seifer, isn't it," Rinoa asked, leaning to look, but knowing she shouldn't touch him just now. To the booth keeper, she asked, "Where did you get this?"  
  
"You gonna buy it or just smudge the pencil?" The man said, eyes narrow, irritation a jagged edge to his words.  
  
Squall had spent more than he'd expected on the emeralds and swallowed. "How much?"  
  
"Never mind." Rinoa had her pocket book out. "Do you have any other drawings by this artist? Where did you get them? Can you get a message to the artist?'  
  
The man pulled a couple of sketch books from under his table. One was worn and covered in brown leather. The other a nice sketch book, hard bound, and the source of the nicer paper the other drawing had come from. It was on top, so Squall picked it up, thumbed through it. All the drawings were beautiful. Some more skilled, experienced than the earlier ones. One could almost see the transition from the beginning to the end, as the artist learned to draw in under five hundred sheets. Brilliantly talented, but it was completely and utterly eerie to see scenes of his childhood, most often with him as the central figure. Selphie and Zell were there as well, and Matron, and the stuffed duck he fought with Seifer over.   
  
Numb, he reached for the other one. Then he really wanted to just sit down right there on the grass. These were all of him, aspects of him. An eye, his lips, his scar when it was only a cut, studies of his hair, and not one single one of them was signed, but he knew who had done these. He knew it had to be Seifer. "Where is he," he demanded from the man behind the table. "Where did you get these?"  
  
"Oh you're the one he was drawing! Nellie said he was looking for this guy he was drawing. He'd come out in the park she said, showing some of the drawings to people, asking if they'd seen you. He was a bit of a nutter though. I see Nellie's daughter, and I'm right glad that nutter's not there anymore."  
  
Squall's face had gone cold pale, his scar a vivid red. Rinoa shoved the sketch books into his arms. "Go. Sit down over there. I'll pay for these and get information."   
  
As he walked away, he could hear her going off on the man. Did he know who he'd just been rude to? Did he knew who the president was? Did he have any idea whatsoever who saved his slanderous mouth from the wrath of the sorceress?   
  
The man had lost himself the moment he called Seifer a nutter. Rinoa had loved him too. If Rinoa wasn't a sorceress, her tongue alone would make her one, Squall thought. A damn effective one too he thought, surprised as she trudged towards him, hauling, Squall narrowed his eyes to make sure, but he thought she was hauling a gunblade. She stopped, stood there, panting for a moment and gave him a glare that translated to 'pick this up before I throw it at you.' The guy had gotten under her skin too, Squall thought.  
  
  
  
He had to see this blade though, he had to. Kneeling in the full sun, feeling it burn the back of his neck, he took the blade and laid it down to unwrap the oil cloth around it. Hyperion. Seifer's gunblade.   
  
  
  
Squall looked up and set off a torrent. "He was going to sell it for scrap today! Vile scavenger! I also got this back from him. He's such a sorry excuse for humanity! Really I don't now how some of these people reproduce! Here." She fished something out of her own jacket pocket and let it slide into Squall's hand. Seifer's chain. "I also have an address for an inn that this beetle claims he bought this lot of stuff from. I also sent a runner to get us a taxi."  
  
She held Squall's eyes, refusing to let him look away as she knelt too and touched her fingers to his cheek. He held Seifer's chain so tightly it might embed into his palm. There were no words in him for what he felt, no way to express it.   
  
"Have faith, Squall. He was looking for you. He was here in Esthar, not more than two weeks ago. Squall. Whatever happened in the war, he did not abandon you."  
  
The right thing, or the wrong thing to say, Squall couldn't tell. He didn't feel anything. His heart had encased the chain in his hand and there was no room for thoughts outside of it. He gave Rinoa a small nod, which she accepted with a patient smile. He picked up Hyperion, dropped the chain into his pocket with the emeralds. Rinoa lifted the sketch books out of his arms, and held the taxi door for him.   
  
She gave the driver the address of the inn the man had given her and settled back into the seat, both hands on the sketch books. There wasn't a single drawing of her in there. She wasn't so grown up that that didn't hurt. 


	2. Finding Seifer

Emerald Tears 2/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own ff8, Seifer or Squall, not even Rinoa. But I did buy the little plastic figures...  
  
Warnings: Very hurt Seifer, protective and attached Squall  
  
Emerald Tears  
  
Squall raked russet hair back from his face, took a slow breath. Rinoa was in full blown blond mode, reminded him of how Seifer could do that, just switch on a mask when he needed one. Rinoa twirled the desk pen around by the chain and smiled at the male desk clerk, who very obviously liked women just fine, especially girls with pretty eyes and long dark hair who could pull off looking like they had angel wings somewhere on their body. "But it's really important," she said, licking her lower lip, then holding it between her teeth. "I really just need to know. He was a friend of mine."  
  
"Important to you, or your boyfriend there," the boy asked. He probably wasn't old enough to divide his age by ten evenly, but neither was Squall.   
  
"Oh he's not important," Rinoa cooed. "He's just with me to keep me safe. I'm safe with you, aren't I?"  
  
"Oh yes," he said, puffing up like an inflatable SeeD. "I'll keep you safe."  
  
Squall got the hint and let himself back out the front door. If there was information to be had out of that boy, Rinoa would get it, one way or another. Squall had other ways to get information. Once outside, he headed down the ally. It was an old building, maybe fifteen stories high, with just enough old decoration on it, a gargoyle hanging from one corner, to suggest that it had been a real nice place. That was probably before Rinoa's father was even born. The fire escape as ancient, rusty, and it creaked like he was ripping it apart when he caught the lowest rung and started pulling himself up. Buildings had their secrets too, and sometimes those were easier to get than secrets from some hormone tortured desk jockey.   
  
It was hard to imagine Seifer in a place like this. Squall tried real hard as he let himself into a second floor window. Sometimes luck is just walking right with you. Seifer had been in the room and he'd left his imprint all over the walls. The entire room was one giant mural. Beautiful images, clouds and blue sky, laughing Selphie, Squall holding that chocobo. It had been a duck in the last drawing, but seeing in the mural it was a chocobo and Squall remembered it. There was one bright yellow hand print on the wall and Squall rolled across the unmade and probably condemned bed to press his hand up against the one on the wall. Seifer. This room just screamed that he was alive.   
  
  
  
It had been too hot to wear his jacket, and now, something was wet against his back. He reached behind himself and moaned in disgust. Dark red on his fingers, so dark it took him a moment to realize it was blood. He looked to the bed. It was blood that had soaked into the hotel mattress and then been soaked with some kind of cleaning solvent. Squall walked back to the bed, trailed his fingers over it, trying on the odd chance to pick up a blond hair or two. There was an awful lot of blood, but no hairs.   
  
"Alright! I'm showing you his room! It's a fucking lot of mess! Do you know how long it's going to take me to paint over this?" The boy whined, obviously cured of his infatuation.  
  
"Just show me," Rinoa snapped. Squall felt down right proud of her.  
  
The boy opened the door and Squall smiled. "Beat'cha," he said with half a smile to Rinoa.  
  
"Yes," she said, giving the boy a slight shove as she followed him in and shut the door. "Did you know Seifer could paint?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So that's what his name was! I hope you have some money to cover the damages! His rent was two weeks over due and when we broke in, he wouldn't even talk to us! We had to pay the emergency service charge."   
  
Squall struck. The boy went against the wall, Squall's hands around his neck. "What happened to him?"  
  
"Emerald? He was just fucking loopy, always picking at the back of his head. He wouldn't hardly talk even before he holed up in his room. Let me go!"  
  
"Where is he now?"  
  
The boy wasn't all that bright. "The city morgue for all I care!"  
  
Squall's eyes narrowed. White drew a line around his lips. "If he's dead, and it's from something you could have prevented, I might kill you. Do you understand that? Does it matter to you now? Where is Seifer?"  
  
"They took him to White Chapel."  
  
"Oh," Rinoa said, but it sounded more like ewww. "Let's go."  
  
"Don't paint this room. I'll be back." Squall let him go and the boy coughed holding his throat.  
  
"You're a fucking loon too!"  
  
"Here," Rinoa gave him her name and her phone number. "Call that number, give my name. They will pay Seifer's charges and rent on this room for another month. Do not paint it over."  
  
"You're too pretty to be a nut," the boy said, shoving her number his pocket.   
  
The only thing that kept Squall's fist from impacting the boy's face was Rinoa's arm catching him. "Come on. We need to get to Seifer."  
  
Squall looked at the guy as if he would have to come up in value to be dog poop on a shoe. "Whatever."  
  
That whatever carried Squall in a nice numb all the way to White Chapel which qualified for the label hospital only because no one cared to really disagree. It had been a church at one time, but now looked more like a refugee camp, the kind that kept them in. There were fences around the thing, with the barbs pointing inwards. Squall made a promise, if Seifer were dead, he and Bahamut were going to level it. If Seifer were alive and suffering, the same might be true, or maybe he'd just commit to helping. It was a bargaining session that went on as a nurse lead them through corridors that made Squall think castle, dungeon. If he could get Seifer out of here, he'd raise funds and build this thing with proper funding. He'd move the world around if he could find Seifer.   
  
It was the drawings, perhaps, that made him realize they'd been best friends for longer than either of them had even known about sorceresses. It was Seifer that Squall had entrusted his soul too, when he'd first come into Garden as a scared boy, and it was Seifer that held his soul now.   
  
So when the nurse moved and Squall was pointed towards a chair, it was his own soul that about withered up and died.   
  
"What's wrong with him," Squall asked, hearing his own voice, but seeing the scene before him as if it were a vid show.   
  
"We don't know. He has a foreign object imbedded in his cranium." She said calmly. "It seems to be preventing him from keeping food down."  
  
"Oh Hyne," Rinoa said, her lip twitching. "Didn't you get a doctor?"  
  
"We only have six hours a week of gratis services. He has an appointment week after next."  
  
"You're joking," Squall said, gray eyes storming. "I'm taking him out of here."  
  
"Where do we send the bill?" She asked.  
  
Squall was already walking towards Seifer. Over his shoulder he snarled. "I will be back to settle accounts."  
  
The nurse nodded. "Very well. I have other patients to attend to."  
  
Rinoa thought she might have trouble keeping her breakfast down as she crossed the small courtyard to Seifer. Squall squatted next to him, fingers lightly touching his cheek.   
  
"Seifer," he said softly, brushing matte away from those green eyes, hoping they would open. His former rival probably weighed less than a hundred pounds, cheeks sunk in, hair thin, and though it was clean, it was dull. From Seifer's eyes, he moved to the scar between his eyes, caressing it gently for the first time. "Seifer."  
  
One breath deepened and dark gold eye lashes brushed against Squall's little finger. Such brilliant green eyes. Those were the same, the same fiery daring green eyes, though they filled with tears. Squall's own eyes were having trouble focusing because Seifer's tears looked emerald, emerald tears.   
  
Seifer licked his lip, blinked slowly, and with unmitigated triumph purred, "I found you. I knew I would. I found you, Gray Eyes."  
  
"I found you," Squall said, irritated that his rescue had turned tables on him. "Seifer. Oh Seifer."   
  
There was a slight twitch to chapped dry lips, as if they wanted to smile but didn't quite remember how, as those green eyes closed. "Knew I'd find you."  
  
Squall lifted him easily, hating the blue hospital pants and top that were too big and hung from the body in his arms. "Rinoa, make sure we have a ride. We have to get him back to Garden."   
  
"Garden is already sending transport. Zell's coming. "  
  
He didn't question her. She was a sorceress and he trusted her, or what use she put those talents to. As gently as he could, he carried Seifer out towards the only door through the fences, towards home. 


	3. The Lion of Balamb and his Ghost

Emerald Tears 3/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them. The Final Fantasy series is a great set of games. I urge you to buy them and play. I should also point out that this story is entirely my responsibility.  
  
Warnings: *tries real hard to think of any* Might a spoiler here and there for the game, but not likely.  
  
Emerald Tears  
  
Somewhere in the halls, dark shadowy places, Squall came to a new understanding of life, of himself. It was like that stupid rebirthing ceremony that Rinoa had dragged him too. One struggles through the dark, fearing to lose the warmth and comfort, only to emerge in the light of freedom and self-responsibility. Seifer's frail body lay against his, hair feathered out over Squall's neck. The halls seemed endless. He wasn't sure they'd been this long on his way in.  
  
About the time he was going to start looking at signs on the wall for the way out, Seifer's fingers fisted in his shirt, clutching tightly. He stopped and tilted his head to look at the face of his rival. Anyone else in this condition, he'd have pitied them, distanced himself from them on the sheer grounds that they were likely to be leaving him soon. Seifer just rolled the world different though. His grip on Squall's shirt wasn't needy, wasn't an act of fear. It was an act of possession, of unmitigated gall. It was pure Seifer to grab onto his rescuer as if he had just captured himself a nice butterfly.  
  
Squall felt one side of his mouth twitch upwards. "Seifer."  
  
The smile that he got as a reward, that was Seifer too, all smirk. Squall hugged him gently. "I'm taking you home, Seifer. I have your blade, your things."  
  
"Owww," he said, a mewling sound.  
  
Squall froze, releasing his hug slowly, holding the man in his arms like the finest porcelain.  
  
"Got warn him, man with gray eyes," Seifer whispered, his fingers relaxing. "Sorceress hunting him."  
  
Seifer's small cry drew Rinoa's attention and a frown from her. "This place is barbaric."  
  
Squall gave one small nod.  
  
"He's in pain," Rinoa said apologetically.  
  
Squall ground his teeth. He knew that. Why did she feel the need to point this out to him?  
  
Then she closed her eyes, stepped very close, and touched Seifer's temple. Glitter floated from her fingers, a whole haze of sparkling magic. This little cloud flowed over Seifer's face, leaving color and firmness in his skin. His breathing eased. His fingers grew stronger. Even his hair seemed to lift and lighten. And that was it. Seifer settled into a more relaxed sleep.  
  
"What did you do?" The spell was weak. If he junctioned, he could get a better spell than that.  
  
Her mouth fell open, then closed tight. In her furious-at-the-world voice, "That was curaga, mixed with esuna. I know I'm supposed to be careful, but Squall, he's hurting."  
  
"He's gonna need a full life soon," Squall snapped. They both knew that Rinoa's spell should have done more than bring back a little color to him.  
  
Squall walked. His pace now so rapid that Rinoa had to run to keep up just about. It was this place, Squall had decided. Not even magic could heal in this place.  
  
Rinoa followed along, hurrying to keep up. When they emerged out the front, sunlight bathed them all, made even the dull of Seifer's hair shine gold.  
  
Zell was waiting in an armored van, of all things. He stepped out of the driver's seat, waved, "Hey! Who's that?"  
  
"Seifer," Squall said, moving down the last few steps as Rinoa opened the side door.  
  
"No fucking way," Zell said, ducking back inside to watch Squall lay Seifer down on the cot that pulled down from the wall. SeeD equipment was multi use. "Can't be Seifer."  
  
Rinoa took the passenger seat in the front. "Let's go."  
  
Squall fastened the safety restraint over Seifer's chest, then turned to pull the side door closed. "It's Seifer."  
  
"Whoaa man," Zell started the van, still looking over his shoulder. "His crimes have caught up to him. He didn't resist getting captured? Or did you lay him OUT?"  
  
"Zell!" Rinoa slapped him lightly on a muscular arm. "We're rescuing him."  
  
"Oh. Right." Zell turned back and put the van in gear. "Yeah, rescuing. It's not like he didn't try to kill us well enough the first time."  
  
There wasn't much to say to that. The trip back to Garden passed in uncomfortable silence. Some things were just facts. Squall was in love with Rinoa. Seifer was a violent criminal.  
  
The things that Squall was good at pretty much all involved some kind fighting. Sorting out his own inner thoughts and fears could be considered a kind of fighting, he thought, but it was all new. It was those drawings, the paintings on the walls. It made him know that he had seen Seifer wrong. All of them had lost their memories a little when they started junctioning GFs. That was why he still didn't remember all of those things that Seifer drew.  
  
Impulsively, he unfastened his safety restraint and reached for the older of the sketchbooks. Sitting there in the floor, his back to where Seifer lay, Squall started going through the sketch book. It was like seeing right into Seifer's mind.  
  
These were images poured out from the blond's very soul. One page after another, there was just one little bit after another of Squall. Pencil and paper had never meant love to Squall, not before this. He paused, took a slow breath, holding his lip between his teeth, as he turned the drawing side ways.  
  
Warm slid down his cheek. The hand that drew this had moved the pencil with a tenderness, expressing a kindness, a knowingness of what it had drawn. The artist had recreated an image with love. There was Squall, right down to the lines of his lips, the shades in his eyes, tangled wild hair. It tore him apart, seeing himself through Seifer's eyes, seeing the distance and the pain in his own face. No wonder everyone was always trying to save him from himself.  
  
It hurt, so deeply, prying open his heart, hurt like the first breath after a full life spell. Squall felt that he was loved, not for what he could do, or what someone could make him into, but just for himself, distant, bitchy, angsty. Seifer loved him.  
  
Romantic love or just true friend love, he didn't know, hadn't thought that far. "Zell."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I wouldn't let anyone hurt Seifer. I will not allow anyone to hurt him."  
  
Just pulling into the garage, Zell looked at Squall's tear wet face in the rearview mirror. "Whatever you say, man. I got your back which ever way you go."  
  
Squall nodded curtly, acknowledging that he was being watched and that Zell would follow his lead. He turned the page in the sketch book. Even in the dim light of the garage, he could see that the next drawing was only in Sefer's imagination. It was a drawing of Squall, of his face, white fur of his jacket brushing his jaw, and the hugest smile on his face. Squall promised himself that he would give this to Seifer, he would smile for Seifer.  
  
The van parked, jerked a bit as the break was thrown on. The door snapped open and Irvine and Martin looked in. "Is it true," Martin asked. "Did you really catch that asshole?"  
  
"Oh man," Zell moaned, "Don't go there! Squall, let me help carry him."  
  
"I'll go tell the doctor what we know," Rinoa said, a distance in her voice.  
  
Squall nodded to her, quickly gathering Seifer's sketch books. "Here," he said, giving them to her.  
  
Then it was about getting the cot Seifer was on disengaged the wall, so that Zell and he could carry him out.  
  
"Oh Hyne," Martin sneered, "You really got him good didn't you!"  
  
Irvine made a sound like he'd touched something hot when he saw the look in Squall's eyes. "Martin, be quiet."  
  
The main doctor and three med techs met them half way there, got Seifer on to a wheeled medical table. Squall stood there, watching them take him away, hand over his mouth. The world was all changed, all different than he'd imagined.  
  
Irvine and Zell stood there with him. Touching Squall's shoulder, Irvine asked, "Tell me?"  
  
Squall shrugged. "He's hurt."  
  
"Yeah, I can see that. I mean, why are you crying."  
  
Wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands, he said, "I'm not."  
  
He followed, slowly, Irvine and Zell, Selphie joining them on the way. Quistis met them there and then all of Seifer's family was there. Except Matron Edea and Sid; Squall didn't know if they'd notified or not yet.  
  
Squall didn't know much about medicine. Magic made practical knowledge less attractive. Much easier to just cast curaga on someone until they were okay again. So when the doctor tried to explain why magic wouldn't work on Seifer was like being told about a whole new world all over again. There was an object inside his skull, blocking the energy of the magic.  
  
"So what you're saying," Squall tried to recap to the doctor sitting across the desk from Rinoa and him. "Is that someone forced this thing into his head. We don't know what's for, but the only magic that will work on him now that it's breaking down is something that's connected to this thing? And that if you remove it you might kill him and if you don't remove it he might die anyway. And that either way, his personality is probably lost with all the memories because this thing is eating into his brain? Isn't that a little dark ages?"  
  
"Basically," Dr. Ewen agreed "You seem to be very important to him. You're as close to next of kin as he has, so the decision is yours. I feel he has the best chance of survival by removing the cortical net."  
  
"What is something like that good for? Why would someone do that to him?" Squall felt like when Ellone was just gone, as if he'd just been robbed again.  
  
"I found references to such things in the early sorceress wars." Dr. Ewen took a deep breath. "Such things are used to junction a human. I would think that it was used by Ultimcia to control Seifer, to channel power to him. He was her knight, after all."  
  
"Seifer never would have agreed to something like that, to something in his head like that." Rinoa protested then reached for Squall's hand, gave a gentle squeeze before he pulled away. "Maybe he was fighting her, to protect Squall and me, and she just did that to him."  
  
"Oh Hyne." Squall paced, almost knocking over his chair when he got up. "She raped and destroyed his mind. But you saw the drawings. There is still Seifer in that body. He's not gone."  
  
"The quicker we do this surgery, the sooner healing magic will be able to affect him."  
  
"How long?" Squall asked.  
  
"How long?" Dr. Ewen asked back.  
  
"How long will the surgery last? I want to junction, so I can cast curaga on him."  
  
Ewen studied Squall. "Despite his sketch books, the childhood connection between you two, I hardly would have expected you to want to heal him."  
  
Squall scowled. Had he really thought Seifer was his enemy? He patted the side pocket he'd put his emeralds in, after he'd taken his jacket off in the taxi. Green eyes. He dreamed about green eyes. "That's how he found his way out of the time compression, by thinking about my eyes. Seifer is," Squall sought out the right word. Brother? Friend? Neither seemed quiet right. Everyone expected him to marry Rinoa. Where did he had room in his life for Seifer?  
  
"He's your soulmate," Rinoa said, a very slight resentment in her tone. "He's not you friend, yet. He's defiantly not your brother. The two of you are like opposite magnets, locked in orbit around each other." She stood leaned closed to him and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Squall."  
  
"Rinoa?" Squall asked, searching her face for signs of abandoning him.  
  
She smiled. "Squall?" She turned to look at the doctor. "Squall wouldn't hurt Seifer and god help anyone else who tries too. The Lion of Balamb needs his Ghost, you see." 


	4. Cerberus

Emerald Tears 4/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them. The Final Fantasy series is a great set of games. I urge you to buy them and play. I should also point out that this story is entirely my responsibility.  
  
Rinoa's words echoed around inside Squall's head as he waited for word about Seifer. If there was anyone in the world that he trusted to understand him, it was Rinoa. Soulmate. He doubted Seifer felt that way, but there was an intense love in those drawings.  
  
Love wasn't a subject available in a gunblade specialist's curriculum. He thought about asking Selphie. She read all those romantic novels. Was it possible to be in love with another man? He was 19 and he wasn't some poetry nut like Selphie. It seemed kinda stupid to be in love with his worst enemy when he knew his best friend wanted to be in love with him.  
  
And yet, when he was all alone and thinking about private things that one thinks about, in say the shower, he was thinking about green eyes. That's why he bought the emeralds. Most of the memories he had were of life in Garden where rules and discipline sorted everything out, even made up for the always being alone.  
  
But he hadn't really been alone; he'd always known Seifer would be back to bug him. Rinoa was right. They did orbit around each other. What would life be like if Seifer were disabled, if his mind didn't come back?  
  
Just as a rage rose in Squall at the creature who had done this to Seifer, there was a knock on his door. Quistis' voice asked softly, "Squall, are you ready? Are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, "Minute."  
  
Moment of truth, he told himself as he reached to the workstation keyboard. He'd meant to junction Shiva, but it was Cerberus who answered he summon. The protective dog spirit leapt into Squall's mind with an intensity that knocked him back to his bed. With trembling fingers, he touched the key sequence that would upload the magics he thought he might need to take care of Seifer.  
  
"Squall! Hurry! He's gone to code!" Quistis yelled.  
  
Squall heard her footsteps running away from his door. How had she known? He grabbed his own pager. It was turned off. Without his jacket, he ran towards the med deck. Squall passed Quistis on the way, shoved Irvine out of his way, and came up hard against the glass between the lobby and the sterile workroom.  
  
Seifer lay face down on the table, draped completely in sterile blue, except for the back of his head which had been shaved clean in a small square, which was now covered with blood, red fading purple as it soaked into the blue cover. Squall pressed his hands to the glass, leaning against it. The monitor near Seifer's head had a flat line all the way across it, a little red heart that showed pulse was just a pink outline, still and empty. The room behind him was silent, so silent.  
  
The doctor conducting the surgery, tugged with a pair of long tweezers at some strand of long silver hair in the center of the shaved spot. It kept growing, longer and longer. It was like some shimmering silver web collapsing on itself as the doctor pulled it out of Seifer's head. Behind him, he heard someone start to puke and someone else growl at them, taking them out of the waiting room by the sound of it. The last of the web snapped free of Seifer's head, shook and floated in the air, flashing and swimming almost with static electricity, some kind of magic. It made Squall's skin crawl.  
  
One of the aides came forward with a split sphere which she captured the almost alive seeming web in, sealing it within a bubble. The doctor turned to Squall, pointed, then pointed at Seifer.  
  
Full life flowed from him first. Only slightly aware that the heart monitor had started again, he threw a curaga, then an esuna. It was overkill. What happened next knocked Squall back, sent him stumbling back until Zell caught him. Zell held him as his knees gave out, and he blinked. Cerberus had unjunctioned and defected to Seifer.  
  
Seifer's hands batted at the blue covering over him, then took a swipe at one of the med aides near him. She screamed and jumped away.  
  
"Seifer," Squall said, not enough strength to say it loudly, then the blond rolled off the table. Louder, Squall called, "Seifer!"  
  
The doctor motioned the aides out of the way, out of the room, as he picked up a hypodermic spray tool. Seifer was up though, naked as the day he was born, hands against the glass. "Gray eyes!"  
  
Zell pulled Squall back to his feet and gave a little shove. Blushing, blushing very brightly at seeing his friend without clothes, Squall stumbled forward and laid his hands against the glass over Seifer's. Then he smiled. The brightest smile he'd ever smiled, just like the one in Seifer's book. "Welcome home, Seifer."  
  
"Home?" Seifer asked, utter innocence in those emerald green eyes.  
  
Squall pressed his hands a little more. "Home. You're safe, Seifer."  
  
Then the doctor hit him with the injection and outright terror flashed through those green eyes as he collapsed into the doctor's arms. Squall punched the glass. "Hey! He wasn't a danger to you! Hey!"  
  
The doctor lowered Seifer's slender, but no longer deathly frail, body to the floor. The aides rushed back in, with blankets, a hospital gown, and restraints.  
  
"Hey!" Squall screamed again. "Don't hurt him!"  
  
"Man," Zell said, punching Squall in the arm. "They're not going to hurt him. They're trying to help him. Look at the monitor!"  
  
There next to the now beating heart, as they re-attached the monitor tabs, there was a golden circle. "Cerberus."  
  
"Yeah. Seifer's junctioned and he and all there just yet, you know?"  
  
"He wouldn't hurt us," Squall said.  
  
"Are we talking about the same Seifer here?"  
  
"Seifer wouldn't hurt us. She can't make him do anything now." Squall put a hand to his head, warding off the raging headache that was coming his way. "I need to sit down."  
  
"Yeah," Zell said, disgusted, "Before I start singing Squall and Seifer sitting in a tree. Shit." 


	5. The Birds and the Bees

Emerald Tears 5/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them. The Final Fantasy series is a great set of games. I urge you to buy them and play. I should also point out that this story is entirely my responsibility.  
  
Notes: I'm having so much fun writing this story!!! For like months now I've been working on writing stuff for sale, and this is just something I'm writing for fun! Thank you so much for reading it and giving me the opportunity to have so much fun!  
  
Nix  
  
Emerald Tears  
  
Laguna scratched behind his ear. "I don't know, Squall. He's only been back for eighteen hours and a pardon?"  
  
"A full and complete pardon, reinstatement to Balamb Garden as a cadet, if he wants." Squall restated what he wanted. Laguna was his father. Squall didn't always believe it and this was the first time he'd asked for anything personal from the man.  
  
"A full and complete pardon," Laguna agreed, eyeing Squall. "Was there something, uh, um, personal going on between you and Seifer before the SeeD test?"  
  
Squall wasn't going to have any teeth left if this kept up. He was just going to grind them into little bits. Nervous and uncomfortable with the heat on his cheeks, he rose and started pacing the presidential office. "Look. I'm not like you. I don't romance just anyone and I was busy. I had a lot of studying to do, a lot of practicing. I didn't have time to think about romance."  
  
"And you didn't need to," Laguna said, in those sometimes wiser than god moments he got, "Because you already knew that you wanted Seifer."  
  
"I did not!" Squall turned, fists held at his side, every bit the angry teenager. "I didn't want him! He was a bully, arrogant, attention seeking, always in my way, getting me into trouble, always talking too much, always goading me into something."  
  
Laguna laughed. "It's alright you know, to fall in love where you fall in love. The heart doesn't know gender the way we think we do with our heads. What does your body think of him."  
  
"Now," Squall snarled, eyes narrow, like a cornered rodent, "That is way too personal even if you are my dad. We didn't have a talk about the birds and the bees. I got that from a class taught to third years at Garden. Insert tab A in slot B, and watch for swelling. That's about it, isn't it? So I'm just one fucked up kitty to be thinking I have a tab A for someone who doesn't even have a slot B."  
  
Laguna leaned his head back, tapping a gold plated pen against his desk. "I'll have you know that Seifer does have a slot b."  
  
"How would you know?" Instinctive jealousy made Squall's aura flash with green.  
  
This time the president of Esthar bit his lip rather than laugh. After a deep breath he replied, "I expect that Seifer is made just like every other normal man. And before you die of embarrassment, I'm not going to give you details. Go ask your friend Irvine. I've seen him date in an equal opportunity way."  
  
"That's not true," Squall said, voice lowering to a whisper. "And even if it is, everyone expects me to marry Rinoa, have kids. Wouldn't you be unhappy if you don't get grandkids?"  
  
"I've really got to look into the curriculum at these Gardens. They're leaving a great deal out. Rinoa's the one who asked me to talk to you about this, about Seifer. I think she was hoping you'd ask me for clemency. Her father wants to see Seifer tried for war crimes."  
  
"No," Squall said, sitting back down in the chair he'd been sitting in. "You wouldn't let him?"  
  
Laguna put down his pen and templed his fingers. "I know I haven't been a great father to you and there are a lot of things that someone ought to tell you, but I'm just not able to do that either. I can do this for you. I'll pardon Seifer Almasy. I'll write Sid and ask that he be readmitted to Balamb, if he wants to be, or if he's up to it. But you take him, today, right now, come morning anyway, and get out of Esthar before someone takes it to the senate that the Sorceress' Knight is back. He needs to keep a low profile for a while, and you too, really. I do love you, you know."  
  
Relief washed over Squall, fragile and tentative. He couldn't say he loved Laguna back. He didn't know the man that well, despite having lived part of his life through Ellone's magic. He did love Seifer though, and Laguna's help caused Squall to be grateful, very grateful. "Thanks."  
  
"You can take my train. Don't be rash, Squall. Be aware that he could be dangerous. He might not mean to be, but he is. The junction he has with that gf, the experiences he's been through, sometimes a person is a walking time bomb and they don't even know it."  
  
Squall scratched the back of his head, frowning. "Yeah, okay. Dad," he said shyly. There was a first time for everything, and he did owe him for Seifer, and he wanted to make Laguna happy too, "This thing with Seifer, I don't understand it, but when I saw his drawings, I felt," Squall paused again, looking for the right word, "Like I wasn't alone anymore. I don't want him to be alone either, you know?"  
  
Laguna's smile was sad and they looked like a matched set, Squall and Laguna. "I understand."  
  
Squall picked his coat from the back of the chair and left. It was that simple. In the morning, Dr. Ewen would release Seifer and he and Squall would disappear to Balamb. Laguna touched the screen of his workstation and the monitor came back up, showing the scanned in image of Squall grinning. Laguna touched the image, wished real , real hard. It was every parent's wish for their child to be happy, to smile like that. 


	6. A Hero of a Different Shade

Emerald Tears 6/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them. The Final Fantasy series is a great set of games. I urge you to buy them and play. I should also point out that this story is entirely my responsibility  
  
Notes: Squall could not pick Seifer up until morning, when the Doctor released him. .  
  
Emerald Tears  
  
Heroes come in many shades and varieties. Martin Zeperus knew Seifer personally. He'd watched the blond take down his cousin. The battle of Galbadia Garden replayed nightly in Martin's dreams, with a central figure was a powerful blond who cast spells, wielded his unstoppable gunblade, and cut down seeD's like they were nothing more than training monsters. Almasy was a monster. Martin patted the gun holstered at his hip.  
  
He had guard duty next, from zero hundred to oh-six hundred. It was the best time of the night for the blond monster to try to make his escape, Martin reasoned.  
  
When he reached the med deck he found almost no one there. Seifer was the only patient kept over night. As quietly as he could, he moved through the open entry area, past the sterile work room, and into the patient rooms beyond. Because of the equipment that Seifer had needed after the surgery, they'd set him up in the small lobby in front of Dr. Ewen's office.  
  
Martin paused and quietly watched. Zell was the last person he would have expected to see sitting with Seifer, holding one limp hand, rubbing it, muttering some prayer. None of them saw Almasy for the monster he was. He had been her knight and was every bit as guilty as she had been.  
  
Zell looked up as he approached. "That time already? He hasn't so much as sighed. Maybe there ain't nothing there," Zell said sadly.  
  
"Oh tell me that breaks your heart," Martin sneered. "Not that he should get off that easy."  
  
"You know, I think I'll just stay with him. You can go get some sleep." Zell tried to make it sound like he was just a concerned friend, and not at all suspicious of Martin's intentions.  
  
"No, can't do that. It's my turn with him." Martin came around the bed and leaned over to look at the equipment. "So how the hell did he steal a gf from Cmdr. Leonhart?"  
  
"He didn't steal the gf," Zell defended. "It was just something to do with that thing that was in his head. "You got the wrong idea of him. He ain't evil."  
  
Seifer moaned, upper lip twitching. One fist doubled up and pulled at the wrist restraint holding him. "Hey, what are you doing?"  
  
"I shut off the pain suppressor." Martin had also pulled his pistol and was now pointing that at Zell as one hand released the wrist restraint. "Monsters like him don't deserve any kind of relief. Now are you going to help me or get in my way. There is some justice to be had tonight. You want some of it."  
  
"Sure do," Zell said, smiling, as he took a swing at Martin from his blind side. Both of them fell on Seifer, who was hissing between clenched teeth as he came back to consciousness. Zell put another punch to Martin's head, "Just ain't you that's gonna give it. Justice means Seifer gets back what he lost and gets to know who loves him, you sorry lamer!"  
  
Martin swung his pistol at Zell, knocking him back, following with a side kick that caught Zell in the gut. "You didn't see him do what I did! He's a soulless monster!"  
  
Seifer was awake enough to take that in. Holding in all sound, Seifer unfastened his other wrist and sat up, pulling out the IVs in his right hand, then undoing his ankles.  
  
"He is a murdering demon, Zell! Trust me! I saw him!"  
  
"I fought against him too! But Martin! It wasn't his fault. Seifer wouldn't do those things."  
  
"Well, then I'm the monster," Martin said, shrugging slightly as he fired at Zell.  
  
Seifer jumped, attacking Martin from behind He didn't have enough strength or mass to fight Selphie let alone a six foot tall and insanely furious SeeD sharpshooter. Martin reached around and grabbed a handful of blond hair, dragging Seifer around so he could get the pistol right to his temple. "She was my cousin. Her name was Emerilda. She had red hair. Do you remember killing her?"  
  
"No," Seifer said, not fighting, keeping his eyes locked with Martin's as he tried to listen to the voice in his head that claimed he could throw a healing spell at Zell. "I don't remember."  
  
"You fucking shit! You killed so many people you don't even remember! She was in Galbadia! You do remember Galbadia, don't you?" Martin shoved Seifer up against the glass of the doctor's office, moved the pistol to below his chin. "You do remember! Don't play games with me."  
  
//There, that's the name of the energy, just summon it. You've done it before.// Cerberus whispered.  
  
It made Seifer's palm tingle, made him nauseous as this spell energy rose and snapped from him to Zell. Zell gasped, body arching at the spell re- knitted his belly and internal organs.  
  
The effort made Seifer dizzy so that the only thing holding him up was Martin's hand in his hair, the wall he leaned against. "Do you think he's going to help you? Dumb ass. He's not going to help you! No one will help you, you murderous bastard."  
  
//One more spell, you can do it, Sei-chan. Cast sleep, feel the name of the spell, call it// Cerberus urged, coaxed, but Seifer couldn't, it took too much effort just to breath. //Make him go to sleep!//  
  
"You're a dangerous freak," Martin snarled, "No one is going to miss you."  
  
"I'm sorry," Seifer said, genuine, but not groveling.  
  
The grip Martin had on Seifer's hair jerked and released. Zell had one arm around his throat, dragging him backwards. "Seifer said he was sorry, so let it go!"  
  
"He's insane! He'll kill again!"  
  
"Only after he passes his SeeD exam!" Zell growled, strong arming Martin till he was bent over the bed Seifer had been laying on. With Martin pinned, Zell turned to ask, "Seifer are alright, man?"  
  
Seifer, however, wasn't there any more. 


	7. A Little Magic

Emerald Tears 7/?  
  
By Nix Winter  
  
Chapter: A little Magic  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own FF8, but I think my Seifer muse owns me.  
  
Author's Note: This is a small update. I haven't been writing a lot lately, and well, I guess I'm just warming up for the weekend.  
  
Three weeks passed. Seifer was not in Esthar. Squall was in the room that Seifer had painted. Laguna had bought the hotel. Past things that couldn't be taken back, wrongs that could never be paid right, went around in the air between them, circulating through the presidential palace's recycled air, wafting out into the city even. In the three weeks since Seifer had been found, treated, and lost again, the season had turned colder. Leaves had fallen, the breeze sharpened.  
  
Squall Leonhart sat in the middle of the room, cross legged on the decades old linoleum. Seifer's bare feet had walked across this, Squall reasoned, trying to see those feet, trying to imagine them and which path they might have taken. His eyes were closed to the present though, lost in images of the past as his mind sorted through what memories he could find, searching for clues to where Seifer Almasy might have gone.  
  
Sunlight could turn Seifer's hair to gold, dark gold. There was one memory, of Seifer spinning, the ocean crashing blue in the background, sunlight flashing over blond hair, sparkling on the water, and green eyes, crinkled, narrowed against the same sun that made Seifer look like an angel. That had been a young Seifer, before he'd learned weapons and war, before something had eaten into his mind like an acid laced spider web. There had been no scar on Seifer's face then, only laughing green eyes, teasing and daring, full of potential and challenge. Squall wanted to somehow fall through time, compress time again and fall through, reach out and pull that young Seifer to him, hold him until all the bad things would never happen.  
  
A tear dropped from Squall's chin, landing on his wrist, then slipping under the edge of one worn black glove. //So where are you,// he demanded from the Seifer in his memory, //Where did you go?//  
  
He'd been sitting there for nearly four days. Growling and yelling at anyone who had the nerve to come near him, he'd found some quiet, some privacy, and alone with his memories, he'd found this one that was so real. It was almost a ghost. Did people go back to the best state of their life when they died? //Are you dead?//  
  
The image of a dead Seifer sprung from his imagination, fueled by hunger and sleep deprivation. He looked at it, clinical, at the still lips, the closed eyes, dulling hair, and rejected it. Seifer was not dead. He'd know. He didn't know how he'd know, but he knew he would. He wondered about his sanity, as his mind skipped over what memories the GF's had left him, looking for times there had been such a vivid, undeniable connection between Seifer and him. Insane. He didn't know who had said, 'War does not make one sane,' but he agreed with them. There was magic in the world. It wasn't so hard to believe that there could be some empathic, telepathic connection between them. Magic didn't have to make sense, did it?  
  
"Seifer," Squall whispered, all his heart in it, even though he couldn't find the strength to conjure up the young Seifer on the beach, "Where are you?"  
  
//You know where I went. I'm almost there. It's a fucking long walk.// Seifer's voice whispered in his mind, but Squall could feel warmth against his ear. //You're nuts, Squally. What are you doing wasting all this time on a fuck up like me?//  
  
Squall opened his eyes, furious at the words spoken in Seifer's voice. He did not understand everything that Seifer had done, but he knew, if the reasons came out, Seifer was not a fuck up. Seifer. Seifer was all that really mattered. Maybe it was a kind of insanity, but on the other side of Seifer, there was nothing, just a great big alone. Seifer. Squall thought, sorting through his own inner puzzle. Seifer had become the key to Squall's own soul. Irritated still with the words his mind had dredged up, he pressed his middle finger against the scar between his eyes, rubbing against the burning. And then he knew. Seifer had gone home to Balamb, back to where they'd always sparred. He'd gone back to as close as he could get to before the SeeD exam and the distance that had screamed in between them when Squall had become a SeeD and Seifer hadn't.  
  
Shaky, Squall got to his feet. All around him, like his life passing before his eyes, Seifer's fractured memories of the past, painted out on the hotel wall, these images scrolled by as he turned. Maybe it was these paintings that made the magic. Maybe something of the sorceress' power lingered in Seifer. If he was right about where Seifer was going, as long as nothing had happened to him on the way, he'd be there now. Squall would get there as soon as he could. He was going home. 


End file.
